A Soldier's Duty
by muahahahaboo
Summary: The story of a soldier and his survival in the middle of nowhere while fighting off the enemy. An amateur story typed a year ago. Has references to the story Halogalas /s/4735679/1/Halogalas
1. Part 1: Cries of the Insurgents

**A Soldier's Duty **

**PART 1: CRIES OF THE INSURGENTS**

"Surely you can't be serious."

"Oh I'm serious."

"What's us doin' in a frickin' airplane miles up?"

"Shut up. We're elite."

"Yes, sir."

"Take up positions. Once that guard gets out of there, knife him. Remember, we only have two minutes to carry out this operation. Once we break cover and open fire, we have to haul ass. After that, we're dead."

I took up a position along the wall next to the bathroom with my back to the surface. As predicted, the door popped open. I listened in carefully, hearing the footsteps of the enemy come out. My commanding officer hid along the wall and held up his assault rifle just in case I couldn't take the terrorist out. With stealth, I crept to the corner of the door and drew my knife from the sheath on my belt. All of a sudden, I saw the boot come into the opening so I slid in front of the enemy and before he could scream, I disarmed him, covered his mouth, and pushed him to the ground. He could see my intention in his eyes and his eyes widened; he tried to struggle and I held him down. He started to whine and I saw that he had never seen combat before. He wanted to fight for a cause, but he was as green as anyone can be. With him silently pleading not to take his life, I decided to end this. My legs were on top of both his arms and I was bending over him. With one quick swipe across his neck, he instantly stopped resisting and his head went sideward. Blood had squirted out when I had slit his throat and a last muffled yell of pain, agony, and sadness had stayed in his mouth.

I had killed before with blood on my hands while carrying out operations. Shot enemies, stabbed them, beating them to death, and the like. However they had all been trained to kill, and this one was not. I-

"What the fuck are you doin'? Hurry up, Jonathan."

"Copy."

I moved out of the room and went down a small hall. There was only one opening, and that was where we were heading. With the butt my rifle pushed against my shoulder, the advanced combat optical reflex sight bounced up and down as I walked slowly; just as I had reached cover, about eight enemies came through the doorway. I opened fire and had managed to bring two of them down before they had reached cover. In the rush, they had not seen me and I shot them through the passenger seats. With four of them left, I primed my flash grenade and threw it at the enemy. My comrades and I took cover and as soon as it had ignited, I stepped ahead to find enemies trying to hold their high-powered automatic firearms. They collapsed to the floor, blind and deaf momentarily. By the time the last one had recovered, he found a barrel to his head. Without hesitation, he was shot and the last thing he would ever see was the muzzle flash.

We moved on and found terrorists on both sides of the doorway. Luckily, we had covered both sides at the same time and the unsuspecting enemies were shot down. In the next room, the enemies had set up and ambush. As I went through, pain ripped throughout my body as a bullet entered my arm and came out through the other way. I ran to a seat, knowing it would not provide much cover. I raised my gun over and blind-fired at the enemy. I hit one enemy in the chest and he went down. I was suddenly shot in the calf of my leg and I instinctively jerked. I let out a cry of pain as more bullets hit my advanced Kevlar helmet and bullets hit my vest.

"Buck up Sergeant!"

"Yes, Colonel!"

As veteran of the Trojan-III program, his mental training had prepared him for the pain that tore through him. I, as a Staff Sergeant DT, was tough and combat-oriented, however I had never been hit in multiple places in such little time with the minimal amount of armor. Speaking of time…shit! I checked my watch; it read that we had just over a minute to rescue our prisoner. With a flashbang, I threw it over and blinded the enemies. I took the time to kill all of the insurgents.

I climbed multiple steps and constantly looked at my watch. 1:02 left, 0:59 left 0:55 left. The first bullet that whistled by me woke me up. The enemies filed out to try to set and ambush, finding that we were already there. We shot the enemy and the bullets exited out back, puncturing holes in more enemies. I took cover and I noticed the bruises in my head and chest; as I looked at my wounds, the blood had leaked down, dripping along the floor. The pain hit me again and it weakened me. I fell to the ground and lay there, breathing hard.

I checked my watch; 49 seconds left. "Shit!" a voice from the other side of me said. "Staff Sergeant Jonathan! Get up or I will personally shoot you myself!" The threat rang in my ears. My vision blurred, and my strength drained away. Slowly, I grunted and picked up my weapon. 0:35. Fuck… I used whatever mental strength I had to stand up. Then I flashed the enemy one last time, took out my pistol, put my rifle around me with the harness, and traveled through the dead corpses that lay on the ground.

"Staff Sergeant, buck up. Okay guys, we're looking for a bomb up here. Be careful."

With absolutely no warning at all, the door popped open with an enemy holding a civilian by the neck. The enemy had pushed his gun towards the civilian's head, who had tried to struggle. I raised my pistol, but couldn't get a clear shot because of the movement. I had no choice left; I surrendered myself to the pain and collapsed, but before I let myself free of the world, I shot the terrorist in the foot. He staggered back, either from the pain or shock. The last thing I saw was the terrorist being shot up and hearing the beeping bomb. I looked at my watch. 15 seconds left. This mission wasn't worth it. Trying to rescue civilians on a plane with a bomb? I blinked my eyes and closed them.

The next thing I knew, I was being dragged along the floor with an open hatch.

"Five seconds! Move it!"

I was shoved through the door with a civilian holding on to me for dear life. I realized I was off the plane and in freefall. The other operatives I had just gone through the firefight with was off the plane. I didn't think I was going to survive the landing. However, I held on to the civilian nonetheless. Just then, the plane that I had the bomb was no longer there. Debris, fire, and smoke literally fell from the sky. When I was about several thousand feet ahead, I deployed my chute. My targeting beacon was active so that friendly forces could find me. I relaxed, trying to ignore the pain.

Sheppard's voice came on. "John! You have debris heading towards your parachute!"

I looked up and there it was; big chunks of burning metal hurtled towards me. I tried angling my chute to head in a different direction, but I was too slow; it ripped up my parachute and I fell to the ground faster and faster as my chute burned up. My armor had locked up to try to protect me from the imminent impact and I hit the trees, fast and hard.

When I finally awoke, I looked at my watch to find that two hours had passed since I fell; my parachute had been caught in the trees and I was stuck in the air. Also, to make things worst, my radio was destroyed and the civilian I had just carried was dead. His bones had been shattered from the fall and I threw his limp and useless body to the ground. I unclipped myself and I fell on top of the civilian, the weight of my stiff armor literally flattening him. Blood leaked out of my mouth and I tasted the metallic, salty taste. I spit out a mouthful of it and saw that my wound was still bleeding. Sooner or later, I would die of blood loss. I crawled off of the dead body and onto the soft dirt. Panting, I stripped off my armor and helmet. I had basic medical supplies. Not enough to stop the bleeding, but enough to slow it. I took out some bandages and ripped off a large piece. I tied it around my leg and it instantly became blood soaked.

"Shit… I've got to get out of this place." My emergency beacon was broadcasting and it told me that backup was a few miles away. With the dark starting to settle, I moved on.


	2. Part 2: Taking Risks

**PART 2: TAKING RISKS**

After around an hour or so of walking, I still had about one and a half miles to walk. With this condition, I would die before I made it. My wounds had stopped bleeding and with relief I knew that I would live. I gathered leaves, which took an unbelievable amount of time. With sore muscles and pain from wounds, I was in no shape to get to help and I was sleepy anyways. As I rested, thinking if help would ever come, I dozed off.

"Hey, Staff Sergeant! You awake?" I woke up to see one of my teammates that had fought with me on the ship. "You look pretty bad. Can I do anything, sir?" She had been a recruit of his in boot camp and now owed her life to him.

"Nope. Frickin' mission almost killed me and now it's going to start a war. Right after we win the fucking Universal war!"

"Yes, sir, I agree."

I looked at my bandages and they looked old and moldy. It was time to change them. After, I finished wrapping the bandages and stood up. Taking a tentative step forward, I relished the fact that the pain was more bearable. I looked over my shoulder, examining my companion. She was probably one of the most amazing looking women I had ever seen; she had a sharp, but feminine face, and a bit of black hair poked out from under her helmet. The woman's suit hugged her curves nicely, as I noted with a small smirk; she was looking off to the side, seeming a little spaced out. Her eyes flashed to me for a split second, and then she quickly looked away blushing, thinking she had been caught staring. I turned back around and shook my head when I noticed her blush becoming heavier. This was no time for romance.

I drew my knife and said, "All right, so any wounds or anything?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"No, seriously, any wounds?"

"A bullet hit my shoulder, but I think it's okay."

"Let me see it, soldier."

"Staff Sergeant, its fine."

"That's an order, Private."

She rolled up her sleeve and there were two red splotches of blood on both sides of her shoulder. It was an exit wound. I took out my metal canteen, which had survived the fall. I washed her shoulder off and she gritted her teeth, resisting the pain. Then I bandaged it and she flinched when pulling away.

"So, you have a name?"

"Samantha." I had never really gone through the process of knowing my students well in boot camp.

"All right, get your assault rifle. Let's go." The Private and me took our weapons. I had a simple, standard-issue advanced plasma combat knife, barely visible in the dark, courtesy of the Kanga, and she had an assault rifle. She handed me her pistol and then went in the direction of the friendly.

We had come across an abandoned enemy outpost about a mile inland. They decided to rest there for the day. With a satisfying cold canned meal, the Samantha and I slumped along the wall.

"You know where we are, soldier?"

" Probably Russia. The plane was meant to explode over Russia."

"So… let's see… what is there to talk about?"

"…Anything?"

"Okay… who starts?"

"Not me."

"Fine… So… How are you?"

"Just fine, thanks. What about you?"

"Well, I've been shot up, bruised up, and I just survived a fall with a burned up chute. Overall, I'm fine. So don't worry on my account!"

"Heh, I've been shot once in the shoulder. I'm fine!"

I smirked and shook my head. We were just talking blandly, making it look like we were just talking to each other in a sarcastic way just for the fun of it. However, I knew she had feelings for me with the way she looked at me earlier and I felt just the same, if not more. I managed to keep the firmness on my face and still think as a soldier instead of falling in love.

And then we heard a thud; I immediately took my hand off my lap and placed it on the floor. I began to put force into my hand so I could stand up but as I was half way up, there was another thud. When that happened, she reached out and grabbed my wrist. I turned my head to her and she released, embarrassed. She stood up and grabbed her rifle.  
"Didn't I ever teach you not to panic, Marine?" I said with a smirk. "Give me that gun. You have the pistol and knife. We're gonna make it through this together."

A minute later, I was outside under the cover of the forest. I tracked the oncoming enemy. About 100 yards away, I saw heavy tanks maneuvering in the potential ambush crisis area. Infantry covered its flanks and stayed in the rear. There was no way I could fight them off. And it wasn't just the fear of being found that bugged me, it was that they wouldn't send that much reinforcements after the two of us.

I spoke into my microphone. "Easy. Get down and maneuver through this. Try to anticipate their paths. If you have to move, do it slow and steady. No quick movements."

"Roger that."

In the dark and the tall grass, we were nearly invisible. We were even more so with our combat fatigues. Just then, a twig scraped against my leg. I let out a sudden cry that was short, but enough to alert the infantry. They held up their weapons and ducked. In the grass I figured they couldn't see shit, but I wouldn't take that chance. The tanks had stopped with its main cannon and machine gun ready to open fire.

"Sir, you alright?" she whispered.

"Yeah," I replied. " Just scraped my wound. Stay frosty."

"Roger that."

I put the black rifle under me, in an attempt to hide its blackness against the dark green. The enemy troops had formed a perimeter, a man on every corner of the perimeter. They slowly advanced in the formation, careful for any sign of an enemy. They started going to the right, away from me. I relaxed, sighing silently, but something felt wrong, something that I knew I had responsibility for. Shit! They're going towards her! She's too green; she'll be discovered and killed! These thoughts entered my head, but with the mental training I've had as a soldier, I learned to shove them out.

I watched carefully as the enemy passed. For a moment I thought she had worked her way through. Then the rear guard saw her. He grabbed her by her vest, pulling her up. The others pointed their guns at her and shouted in a Russian language.

"They most definitely are Russian," I said to myself. I stood up from my prone position and moved to the crouching position. I then assessed the situation. Five infantry, plus change armed with multiple grenades, heavy body armor, and light machine guns with high penetration rates. Three heavy tanks with a heavy machine gun and the largest cannon you would ever have seen. I decided to go for it. The girl was worth more than the risk.  
I stood up and yelled, "Drop your weapons!" I was in cover behind a tree and looked through the scope of my gun. I had a clear shot on the guard that was holding her, putting a gun to her head, similar to the hostage situation on the plane. However, with the assault rifle I was holding, the bullet might not go entirely on target. Not only that, but if I killed the enemy, then what? It would be seven guys to two and that that was only if I killed one of them. That was piss poor odds for us.

I thought, why am I doing this? She still had her helmet on with the microphone. The guard had no time stripping her of her helmet before I popped up.

"No matter what happens… We'll get through this together. I made a promise…" I whispered into the microphone. With the amount of zoom in my scope, I could clearly see her tearing up and nodding. I nodded back once, knowing what must be done. When I fired my rifle at another guard and splattered his brains, she elbowed the guard holding her in his face, making him stagger and fall back. She dropped to the ground, grabbed her pistol and knife, and gruesomely messed up his leg and face. I killed two guards with headshots so far, but as of now I was pinned down. I had rolled out of the tanks machine gun spread radius where it was shooting, but I couldn't risk the gunner being slow. The infantry got a general idea of where we were, but luckily for us, our positions were too general and with plenty of cover, they wouldn't see us if we moved slowly. Raising my head slightly, I could barely see the muzzle flash of the machine gun, but there it was. With all the grass between it and me, that gunner would not see me. I aimed my rifle and shot him. His helmet fell off and he hit the machinegun nose first. I raised my head and I found out that two more guards hit the ground.

"Whew, go Samantha, wow, can she fight."

The problem was that there were still about four more guards and two more enemy machine-gunners. They suppressed me and bullets hit the dirt around me; I couldn't move. If they fired less than a foot closer, I would be dead. The enemy didn't look like they knew where Sam was so that was good. I risked a glance over and a stray bullet skinned my arm. Two tangos left. The enemy had grouped closer together, so that the target would be easier to spot and they would be more protected. "Damn. She can't get to them anymore. I'm gonna have to take 'em out myself."

As I said that, I heard extra gunfire. The two insurgents dropped and as the raghead gunners turned to meet the new threat, extra gunfire erupted behind them. The gunners hit the machine guns face-first. The enemy tanks were now vulnerable so I ran up to one and climbed onto the top hatch. I then looked at the other tank and Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard was on there. He looked at me and passed me a grenade. As I opened the hatch, I could see the enemies poking their guns straight at me from the hatch. I pulled back just in time. Bullets pinged off the interior of the tank and the sky was lit up with burning bullets in the air. I quickly threw the primed grenade down there and closed the hatch. With a satisfying shakeup, I opened the hatch again. A person's head popped out and evidently he was still alive. He was in pain, blood leaked from his eyes, nose, mouth and his hands. He was soaked in blood and his collar of the uniform had rips in it. That was evidence of the shrapnel in the grenade. I shot him in the head and more blood squirted out as the hatch fell.

"Thanks, sir," I said to the Colonel.

"Don't sweat it. We don't leave Marines behind."

The person that had been with Sheppard was a young Marine of about 20 years old. I later learned that he was a Sergeant, also a veteran of the alien wars. He was taller than me, but I was tougher and stronger. "Thanks, Sarge."

"Your welcome…Gunnery Sergeant." He said that with a wide grin. "You've received a field promotion. Congratulations."

I smiled and yelled to the Colonel. "Thank you, sir!" He simply looked at me and smiled.

Then Samantha came along, who was previously searching for enemy intelligence. She took off her helmet. I hugged her hard and she returned it. I had tears running down my cheek and I smiled. As I pulled from her, I found out that she was crying too.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. And just so she knows, I promoted her to Lance Corporal. Congratulations soldier, " the Colonel said.

"Thank you, s-."

Her sentence was utterly interrupted by the sudden vibration and blasting noise. We watched as a giant projectile rose into the air.

"People, the war's just started," the twenty year old said, but the Sergeant's voice was drowned out by the constant roaring of the nuclear weapon.

I put my hands on her waist, leaned against her and rested my chin on her head. I looked in the direction of the missile and sighed. "So, this is how the world ends. Might as well spend it in peace."

I took my chin off her smooth hair and looked at her face, deep in her eyes; yes, she did love me and I loved her too; my face moved closer to hers and she moved closer to me. I then closed my eyes and felt the warmth of her breath against my face. She didn't resist and came closer. I planted my lips on her soft, silky lips. She put a hand on the back of my neck and the other one in the back of my head, as if to pull me in. The Colonel then looked away from us, eyes rolled up. I have to say, she was beautiful. As we kissed, a feeling of fiery love filled my body. I pulled away slightly and so did she. "I love you," I admitted.

She looked me in the eye and said, " I love you with all my heart."

I looked at her brown, glistening, teary eyes, so she could see that I was telling her the truth. "And I'll love you forever and ever, babe."


	3. Part 3: Getting Home

**PART 3: GETTING HOME**

"All right guys, command tells me they'll dispatch a couple of Kanga TRAP (Tactical Recovery of Aircraft and Personnel) groups to us. Problem is, we're gonna have to go two miles west which is past the direction from where the enemy came from. And its not gonna be a small recon force like this. It's Spetsnaz. They probably have some Kanga stationed too."

"Why can't we just go around it?"

"They got mines placed there. Anywhere out of the mines is fenced off by an electrical gate for tens of miles."

"All right then, lets go there for a better view. Meet you guys there in half hour. We split up. Sam and Zack. Me and Jonathan."

"All righty. Let's go."

Ten minutes later, the Colonel and I had lost track of where the 20 year old, Zack, and Sam went. We had our fingers above the trigger, to make sure it didn't go off accidentally.

Twenty minutes later, cover had been growing scarce, and we had to crawl the rest of the way.

At half an hour, I reached the base, and with only the cover of the night, I stood up and looked around. I saw Zack and Sam together, scooping the area so I crawled over to them.

"You guys see the colonel? Lost track of him during the crawl."

"Nope. All right, I'll try to find 'em. I'll be back."

I rose and skimmed the area. No sign of the Colonel. I started going back from where we came from. I saw him.

What I saw, it was mind bending, to say the least. He had a deep gash in his stomach, and several claw marks on his thigh.

He opened his eyes when he heard my footsteps, and said, "Kanga. Stealthed Shangeli. It's been tracking us." With that, the Colonel gave me his weapons. "Make use of it."

"Yes, sir, hang in there. We're gonna invade now."

I rushed back over to Zack and Sam. "Guys, Sheppard's unconscious. Stealthed Shangeli somewhere. Watch your back. We gotta secure the base now. I'm gonna go around the back, and if this map is correct, as long as I stay less than 10 meters away, the mines wont get me. You guys go through the front. We got the element of surprise. Take out the guards silently, we only got one chance. After we're in, we go loud. We take out as many of those bastards as we possibly can. If we die, we die. If we survive, we recollect Sheppard and wait for those TRAP teams after we move. Watch your backs. Shangeli on the loose."

Sam and Zack nodded their approval and I gave the Colonel's weapons to Samantha. "Wait for my mark on the radio. Get into position." It took me less than a minute to go around back. The building was not big and I expected the base to be divided into infantry quarters, cafeteria, and an office. It was a minor outpost. I found the opening and there was a guard, with his back to me. He had a cigar and was obviously bored. I creeped in, covered his mouth and jammed my knife into his throat so that he spine was severed. "Mark."

I waited a minute or two in the same spot with my rifle before I heard shooting. That my cue to go. I went up the stairs to find that there were no guards so then I started securing the rooms. The office was empty. The infantry quarters were empty. All the rooms, empty, no sign of any Spetsnaz being there for the last 5 minutes.

I rounded the corner and there was an enemy troop, firing his assault rifle at empty space with wide-stricken eyes. I immediately knew what it was. I saw the glow of a plasma sword grow and literally slice the man in half from the groin up to the head. Three rounds from my assault rifle went off and an overshield glowed. I saw the creature turn towards me, and with the overshield recharging itself, I could see it clearly. I squeezed off another few rounds.

Enraged, the creature roared and shut off its stealth technology. It rushed towards me and I panicked. I started pressing the trigger multiple times and although they scored hits, the overshield did not fail. It was at 10 feet now. I squeezed off another burst and pressed the trigger again. *click *

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled. I pulled out my pistol and squeezed off the rounds. *click* Again! The creature closed in… three feet… two feet… one… It lashed out at me and I smelt burning flesh. I was lucky because it had only brushed me, and the gash was less than two centimeters deep. It was about to lash me again.

It was interesting how my mind emptied as the beast prepared to strike again. I was at complete peace, because the part of me that wanted to die and get rid of all the gore I had seen would soon be satisfied. The hidden guilt of living would be gone. But in the last quarter of a second, as the sword came swinging hard and fast, the other part took over, the Marine trained to live at all costs. I ducked, pulled out my knife and stabbed it into the chest of my enemy. The overshield fell with the brute force of my knife and the aftermath of the previous bullets. It roared out and collapsed without another sound.

I could then hear a Kanga dropship, most likely the TRAP team. I exited the base to find a CSOAF insignia on the floating vehicle. I relaxed and went to get Colonel Sheppard. The Kanga were already treating him and moving to the ship.

I could never be happier and relieved than I felt in my entire life. I wanted to run around, hooting and laughing. And then, quite suddenly, the world grew dark around the edges, and I closed my eyes.


	4. Part 4: Golden Days

**PART 4: GOLDEN DAYS**

I did my best to avoid the war, and for the most part, it's shadow avoided me. Russia and the Renegade Shangeli had surrendered after we started overwhelming them by force and numbers. A year later, the war ended, and me, Sheppard, and Samantha retired. Someday, I knew I would have to deal with the stress. Nine years later, the day came.

The memories came back on a warm Saturday afternoon, outside my home in Central Georgia. My old Special Forces leader Colonel Sheppard, who was retired, like my wife and me, came by for a weekend visit. We didn't really say much about the war whenever we saw each other, after nine years, it was still too fresh. But that didn't stop us from talking. Sports, politics, music, just about anything that crossed our minds. Sheppard's wife had also come over and was talking with Sam, inside the house. I married Sam about eight years ago, after the war. I found out that she wasn't one to be messed with. After all, she was a former marine too. I found out later that Zack had died on a Special Operations mission with Colonel Sheppard while trying to defend a town from enemy battalions with just twenty other operators and the men of the town. He was still twenty. I'm 29 right now and Sam is 28.

We sat there, just looking at our kids play and sipping our beer.

"Daddy, Zack threw sand at me," whined Jennifer, Sheppard's nine-year-old daughter, dashing from the sandbox out of my son's range.

"Throw it back," ordered Sheppard a grin on his face. "Fuckin' kids, eh? Never fight their own battles!" We chuckled on that.

"You wouldn't have ran to your dad at her age?" I asked knowing the answer.

"Nah," he said shaking his head. "I woulda tackled the guy and thrown sand in his eye's till he went blind."

"Had a Marine's attitude even then?" I asked. Before he could answer, I let out a cry, "Oo-rah!"

"Hell yeah I did," he grinned. "I would've put those guys in Full Metal Jacket t' shame."

"You sure would've," I said, tossing my bottle into the garbage can next to me. "I wasn't USMC myself." I stopped for a moment and realized our conversation was steering toward the war. I shrugged the thought off and reached down into the cooler next to my chair for another beer.

"You were Rambo," said Sheppard, glorifying my role in the war. "Right behind me all the way!"

"Well, you were platoon leader 'cause your role got screwed," I laughed, for a Colonel was to have a higher role than that.

"No," he said shocked. "I was more your ass saver."

"True," I commented. "But at least you got us back alive."

"Not _all _of you," he muttered sadly. I began to picture those had died in that useless conflict, and I was sure he was doing the same thing.

"You got as many us back as you could," I said touching his shoulder. "That's all you could do."

Sheppard had come home a changed man. We all did, really. No combat soldier ever returns home the same person; its just one of those facts that gets nudged aside by the "glory of war." I remember at a Veteran's Day gathering party, my brother-in-law asked me, "Why are you so fucked up now? You don't laugh or smile anymore." At the time I didn't have an answer, I still don't. All I have is an opinion.

It is not the acts in war that leave us "fucked-up," but life afterward. A combat veteran is doomed to life of countless nights reliving what they did, or rather, what they _should _have done. Sheppard suffered from this the hardest out all the members of our unit. Those what-ifs haunted him. What if I had called in gunships while closing in on the enemy? Could I have saved more men? What if I had known more about fixing wounds? A thousand questions, with the same answer: No way to tell.

As night closed in around us, it was time for Sheppard and his daughter to leave. His car lurched away, his headlights shining on my face as he pulled out of the drive. The engine roared and he vanished down the road, with a farewell blast of his horn.

I walked inside, closing the door behind me. Stomping up the stairs I turned the corner and found that Samantha had sent Zack to bed for me. I sat on the edge of his bed and ruffled his hair. His eyes shot open. "Hey Daddy," he mumbled yawning.

"Hey Sam," I said kissing his check. "Did you have fun with Jennifer?"

"I guess," he mumbled. "But she's a _girl_!"

"I thought they were icky at your age too," I said. "But that'll change one day," I said with a smirk.

"What did you and uncle do?" he asked sitting up and propping himself on his pillow.

"Just talked about some stuff that happened a million years ago," I said thanking God I survived the war to have days like these. "Just boring stuff."

My son's eyes grew wide and he asked the question I had feared since his birth. "Daddy? What did you do in the war?"

My eyes started to tear and I turned around. "Nothing, son. Go to sleep now."

I turned off the light and said, "Sweet dreams. Semper Fi." Zack wanted to follow in my footsteps and become a Marine. No way, I would've said, but what was a parent if he didn't support his kid? I backed out of the room and shut the door.

I went down the stairs, sobbing my ass off like a little kid. I tried to hide it, but Sam heard me right away and rushed to me. "Hey, hey. It's okay. It's over." She knew I would get depressed someday or another, whether it was today or twenty years after. She knew as a Special Operator, I had seen a lot of action and death. I have had several episodes before, which my kid had not seen.

After a while, she managed to comfort me, and I just sat there with a red nose from all the crying. I leaned my elbow on the couch and used my hand to support my head.

I just stayed that way, for a long time, and Sam curled up next to me, her head leaning on the side of my chest and her hands under her head like a pillow. I put my arm over her body and while she slept, I sat up carefully as to not wake her up. I gently moved her over to the side and I grabbed a blanket. Luckily, the couch was big enough for two and I slept next to her, staring at her face, thinking. Too many what-if questions came to me.

I woke up Zack, and asked him if he wanted to sleep with mom and dad tonight. He eagerly agreed and I placed him between my and my wife. I put my hand on my son's stomach and my wife, even though she was sleeping, put her hand on mines. I stared at my son and wife's faces, thinking. Too many what-if questions came to me and I cried myself to sleep at my wife and kid's side.


End file.
